


Cinderella Dreams

by Percygranger



Category: Ai no Kusabi
Genre: 2015 backlog, Canon Compliant, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Introspection, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Percygranger/pseuds/Percygranger
Summary: Riki thinks about life under Iason's thumb.
Kudos: 12





	Cinderella Dreams

Riki scrubbed at the floor, the machine that usually did this sitting idly to the side. A Furniture, prod in hand, was there too, ready to zap him if he stopped for more than a minute. His knees ached, back and shoulders quickly on their way to following. 

At some point in his “training”, Riki had realized that running away from (or trying to push away) Iason wasn’t going to work. Riki knew he was a stubborn bastard, in most of the possible senses of that phrase. But he’d learned that Iason was, if not more stubborn, had more ways to enforce his will than Riki did. Maybe if they’d been on Riki’s home turf, with his gang for support, they’d have been able to keep Iason away. Riki didn’t kid himself into thinking they’d manage to keep him enslaved. Iason was too physically strong for that, too favored by the powerful to be kidnapped and kept hidden. 

Just his luck that Riki was street trash.

Fighting wasn’t working. It was more painful than a beating, to face that fact. He could fight all he wanted, and Iason would probably never give up. The privilege of the Blondie was to always get their way, at least when it came to someone below them. The notion soured Riki’s stomach every time he thought of it, but he was steeped in it, and had been for months. It was a miracle he could eat at all. 

Fighting only seemed to produce certain results: pain, humiliation, punishment, torture, confinement. Riki wasn’t sure what he dreaded more: being locked away with no one to see or talk to, or being put on display and made to come, over and over again, feeling the pleasure of his body betray him under a stranger’s hands. 

The pain, he could deal with well enough. The lash of a cane hurt, yes, but Riki welcomed that as unambiguous sensation. Iason thought of pure pain as a deterrent, while Riki saw it as the lesser of evils. He’d even given up his pride enough to fake hating it, pretending to flinch when told about his fate, yelling behind clenched teeth with each blow. It wouldn’t do to let Iason know his real reaction. It wasn’t pleasant, but that was the best thing about it. 

Unfortunately, the marks of a lashing seemed to be an attractant, a siren call for Iason’s proxied hands, bending him over and tracing them, slapping them, fucking him, hitting his prostate until he couldn’t find the line between pleasure and pain. So Riki really did hate the canings, just for their outcomes more than their actual carrying outs.

Riki had yet to find the line that tipped between a caning and other punishments. Iason had strapped him to the fucking bench and the whipping frame for the same things. Lashing out at the other slaves, talking back, refusing to follow orders. Maybe Iason was as confused about his feelings as Riki was. 

But running away didn’t work. The more he pushed back, pushed Iason away, the closer Iason invaded, even going so far as to touch him with his own hand, the last time. Riki was sure the other Blondies would be utterly shocked, not that he cared. 

Riki was afraid to know what happened if he gave in, though. Would Iason pull him close and never let him leave? Take one single surrender as sign of a lasting peace and let him have some room? Riki had seen trusted slaves given a long leash, not outside the building, but able to walk from room to room without an escort, or a chain. Riki wasn’t sure he was ready to settle for such paltry freedom. He wasn’t just a slave, not just Riki the Dark, or not a Blondie, he was human, and while it didn’t matter now, in this time, he knew it used to mean something, and he wasn’t going to let that go.

But what could he do otherwise? It was fight or not fight, give in or stay strong. If he gave in with ulterior motives, of just getting a break or waiting for a better time to escape, Iason would know, Riki could feel it. Iason would find out, and push him and push him until that surrender was real. But how was that any different than now? 

The fumes of the cleaning liquid were making him light-headed, but Riki scrubbed grimly on. Better this than something else.


End file.
